


Mending Fences

by Nicnac



Category: Smallville
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, Lex hadn't expected it to be so literal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mending Fences

**Author's Note:**

> [jlvsclrk](http://jlvsclrk.livejournal.com) [left me a comment about Clex mending fences](http://nicnac918.livejournal.com/55777.html?thread=82401) so I'm blaming this one on her.

It happens on a farm, which is fitting somehow. It’s not Smallville or the Kent family homestead – Clark had sold that, so long ago now that Lex can’t remember the particulars anymore – so it isn’t exactly the same as before, but then, neither are they.

Lex roars up to the house in a trendy little sports car, the likes of which he never would have dreamed of back then. He hasn’t driven himself in a while, but the limo hadn’t seemed appropriate.

He knows Clark can hear him coming – Clark might try to use his powers as infrequently as possible ever since Superman “died” last year, but he had always had a hard time keeping his hearing to completely human levels. So Lex isn’t surprised when Clark is waiting for him at the end of the driveway. The pile of wood and bag of tools were unexpected though.

Lex gets out of the car and the two stare at each other. After a moment, Clark picks up the tools and wordlessly hands them to Lex. Equally silent, Lex accepts them. Then Clark picks up the wood and walks off.

Lex does the only thing he can think to do and follows.

Clark leads them across what is presumably, judging from the bovine feces littered everywhere, a cow pasture. Eventually they reach the other side, marked by a stretch of broken and sagging fence. Clark raises his eyebrows at Lex in challenge and Lex, taking off his suit jacket and tie and rolling up his shirt sleeves, accepts.

They work diligently and efficiently, leaving the silence unbroken as much as possible. Even Clark’s occasional instructions were made via unspoken gestures.

Finally, as the sun is sinking closer to the horizon and the job is nearing completion, Lex speaks. “I sold LexCorp.”

Clark makes a wordless noise of acknowledgment and keeps working.

“Living forever gets a bit tiresome after the fourth time you’ve had to pretend to be your own illegitimate son from a distant country.”

Clark actually smiles this time, but still doesn’t say anything.

Suddenly all the indirect statements and attempts to dance around the subject seem silly and pointless. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Clark responds. He puts the last touches on the job and then steps back to give the repaired fence a last look-over. “I’m sorry too.”

They observe their handiwork for a minute or two before Lex again breaks the quiet. “What now?”

Clark squints up at the sun. “Dinner,” he says decisively. “We can go from there.”

Lex wipes his hands on his pants and nods. “Sounds good.”


End file.
